Searching For a Home
by MyOTPstolemylife
Summary: Wendy Darling is a young orphan living on the streets London. This is her story before reaching NeverLand. Four-shot. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

The small girl staggered through the streets, the icy sleet cutting into her tattered coat and making her nose turn red.

It was Christmas Eve and there she was, freezing cold with nowhere to go. She looked in the windows and saw the families in their warm homes, decorating the tree.

Some had rows of popcorn on string; others were sprinkled with silvery tinsel. Most of them were gaily adorned with metallic spheres, each hanging from a small hook. Every tree had a bright tin star gracing the top.

The girl sighed, wishing she had a family to celebrate with, a home to stay in during the fierce winter storms. Alas, she was orphaned at the fragile age of six, forcing her into the horrid orphanages. She was in and out of those wretched 'Homes for girls', and foster homes. As she had just turned twelve years old, it was evident she would inevitably never be adopted.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away before it could freeze to her skin. She had run away from her last foster home, deciding to take her chances on the streets instead. Her caregivers were a hard-hearted couple, probably only in it for the pension paid by the government each month like clockwork. The money was supposed to go to buy food and clothes for her, but they kept it for themselves and left her with the oversized garments she had found at a church clothing drive.

She slipped on a patch of ice and fell on her back. She lay there, letting the biting rain and the frigid wind fall upon her. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to forget her current circumstances and let her mind drift back to sweeter memories.

 _"_ _Careful, honey! You don't want to trip and fall, do you?" Her doting mother asked, chasing her five-year old daughter around the front parlor._

 _She squealed as she ran circles around the sofa, always managing to be on the opposite side whenever her mother thought she was about to catch her._

 _"_ _Whoa, there! Hold your horses, little one!" Her father chuckled, scooping up the toddler. She giggled and squirmed, reaching for her mother._

 _"_ _And to think; just a moment ago, you were running from me!' Her mother laughed, a wonderful, musical noise. She settled her child on top of her growing belly. "Dear, what do you want to name your little brothers?"_

 _Her brow crinkled. "Bwoders?"_

 _Just then, Big Ben chimed in the background._

The recollection was cut short by a wet nose nudging her temple. She scrabbled back on all fours, until her back hit a brick wall. Standing in front of her was a massive St. Bernard, long tendrils of drool hanging of its mouth.

"Stay back." She said it calmly, getting up but avoiding eye contact, just as her father instructed her to do.

 _"_ _You can never know an animal's demeanor. Making eye contact is considered challenging the dog, daring it to come out and fight."_

The dog just stared at her, its big golden-brown eyes warming her despite the distance between them.

"Are you a nice doggie?" She inquired, tentatively sticking out a hand, and moving a step closer to the dog.

It advanced toward her, until placing its head under her hand. She rubbed gingerly, and the dog sat down and leaned into her.

"Aw, I knew it. You're just a sweet lost soul like me. Do you have a name?" She checked its neck for a collar, and found none. "Well, seeing as you have no title, I shall give you a name myself. You need someone to care for you and I need someone to care for me so how about Nana, to match your sweet personality.' 'Nana' stuck out her tongue and began to pant. "I believe that means you like it."

They strolled down the street, looking for an alcove to camp out in until the weather calmed down. She jumped in surprise as she realized something. "Nana, I never told you _my_ name! I'm so terribly rude. I'm Wendy. Wendy Darling."

uuuuuu

Curled up in a doorway, snuggling with Nana, Wendy Darling fell asleep.

When she woke, fluffy clumps of snow were floating down around her, creating a pearly haze around her. She stood up, brushed the snow off herself and Nana, and together they set out on the snow-veiled cobblestones.

It was Christmas Day, 1902. And honestly, Wendy couldn't be happier.

Granted, she was still a homeless orphan, but no longer alone. She had Nana, the best present she could have received. She thanked the Father Above repeatedly for her newfound friend.

The girl and her dog meandered down the road, stopping to look at the breads and cookies in the window of the bakery. Luckily, Wendy was able to find a half-eaten pound cake in the garbage behind the shop. She and Nana feasted on the sweet confection for their breakfast. They then resumed their walk.

Little children came out to play, enjoying the pleasant weather. They saw Wendy and invited her to join them in a snowball fight. Some of the kids were put-off when they saw Nana, but she assured them of her kindness. Soon enough, the formerly frightened youngsters were riding the giant dog like a small horse.

They frolicked across the yards, throwing snowballs at each other, until one of the mothers saw the way Wendy was dressed—' _Surely an orphan_ ,' the distressed woman mused—and ushered them all inside, scolding them for associating with someone like that.

Pushing down the rising feelings of hurt and rejection, Wendy fetched her dog and marched down the lane.

They stopped by an inn and she used her last few pennies that she had stolen from her guardians and paid for the smallest room available. The innkeepers were hesitant about allowing the dog in, but she told the couple Nana was very mild-mannered and well-behaved. Wendy wasn't completely sure about the last one, but they didn't know that. After a lengthy discussion about the whether they were running an inn or a barn, the wife kindly consented to let Wendy keep the pet with her, as long as it stayed off the bed.

Wendy collapsed on the small cot, the only thing occupying her room besides a chest of drawers which she had nothing to put in. She was utterly exhausted, and she wished for sleep. Much to her surprise, her prayer was answered.


	2. Chapter 2: Back at the Home

When she woke up, Wendy Darling looked around at the foreign surroundings.

"Nana?" She stretched out her fingers, clawing at the sheets, searching for the dog.

"Your dog is in the garage." A nasally voice surprised her, and she snapped her head up.

Mistress Romane.

Wendy groaned, and the disgruntled woman clicked her tongue. "You honestly thought you could stay out of the Home? Those innkeepers called the constable as soon as you checked in. Smart people."

"You're not sending me back to those wretched people." Wendy stated defiantly, rising off the bed to stand up. "I refuse."

Mistress Romane laughed coldly. "Not your choice, darling,'" She said, using the girl's surname as a sarcastic endearment. "You will indeed be going back to the Emerson couple. You should be sympathetic, you ungrateful girl. They lost their only son, Peter."

"I should be sympathetic?" Wendy snarled, quite unlike her normal shy demeanor. "Maybe _they_ should be sympathetic toward me. I am the orphan, after all."

The mistress chuckled again. "They're coming to fetch you at dusk. And they're taking that mangy mutt with them. Said she could be useful as a watchdog." With that, Mistress Romane turned on her heeled and walked out of the room.

With a defeated sigh, Wendy fell back on the hard mattress she had slept on. "What can I do now?"

uuuu

"Get up, Wendy Darling. Now!" A harsh hand shook the young girl awake from her peaceful sleep. "The Emerson's are here to take you to your new home."

"Of course." Wendy mumbled, sitting up. She idled there, stalling for as much time as she could, but Mistress Romane was having none of it. She yanked the small child up and shoved her toward her new foster parents.

"Hello, Wendy." The couple chorused in unison.

Mr. Emerson was a tall, thin man with dark hair and small, beady brown eyes. He wore an oversized suit with tattered coattails and a tiny bowler hat. His wife was short and had big green eyes, blonde hair; a face sprinkled in freckles, and was clothed in a black sheath with a dark gray shawl. They looked as if they were prepared to attend a funeral, not to pick up their new child.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Emerson," Wendy growled through gritted teeth.

Mrs. Emerson snatched Wendy's arm and pull her close to herself and her husband. "Thank you, Mistress Romane, for finding our dear girl. We missed her terribly, and it was so heart-wrenching to lose another child after our beloved Peter."

With each parent keeping a firm hand on her shoulders as they marched to the motor carriage, Wendy found it impossible to run away. She had tried once, but Mr. Emerson caught one of her curls and pulled her back.

Now she had a throbbing scalp and was squished up between the two adults in the small carriage as they rolled down the road to Wendy's new prison.

Nana sat on her feet, in even more of a crunch than Wendy. There was a trunk on the opposite side of where they were sitting, and Nana was pushed up against it.

"Must you have booked such a small carriage, dear?" Mrs. Emerson complained, wiggling around in her seat.

"Emily, dear, this is our normal carriage, there's just more luggage this time." His piercing glare leveled on Wendy.

"If you despise me so much, why did you take me back?" Wendy inquired bluntly.

Emily Emerson laughed loudly. "The pension, you foolish girl! Why else would we want a wriggly, whining child?"

Wendy rolled her eyes. "To love and cherish, perhaps?"

uuuuuuuu

When they finally arrived at the Emerson house, they snow was coming down in a harsh sheet, the bitter winds blowing in strong gales.

"Hurry, dear, let's get inside before I ruin my hair!" Emily shrieked, making a mad dash to the front door of their small flat by the English Channel, completely unaware she had knocked poor Wendy into a puddle of icy slush. Quickly standing up, she wiped the dirty snow off her face and stalked to the flat. Her old coat did little to protect her from the biting sleet, and the tiny, tattered cap that adorned her small head blew away in a strong gust of frigid wind.

Standing in the front parlor of the flat, Wendy surveyed the small area. There was a large fireplace along the east wall, topped by a mantel lined with odd knick-knacks. On the opposite wall, there was the kitchen, and then a short hall leading to the Emerson's bedroom and the small closet that had been rectified into a room for Wendy. It was tiny and cramped, but it was her only consolation during her short stay at the Emerson home.

"Your room is still down the hall, Wendy. Make yourself at home." Emily cackled, stroking her golden tresses, her only real beauty.

"Figures." Wendy mumbled, and trudged to her room. It was a small area, with one cot against the far wall and a trunk resting beside it. She fell back on the bed and rubbed her temples. How was she going to survive again?

"Wendy, it's time for supper!" Mr. Emerson howled in his high-pitched voice.

"Let me guess: Cold mush?" Wendy asked sarcastically, walking from her room to the kitchen.

Emily Emerson flitted around the kitchen, pouring some steaming gruel into a bowl. "No, we're having hot mush." She giggled manically and shoved the bowl toward her foster daughter. "Now shoo."

Wendy accepted the bowl and scurried to her room so she wouldn't have to endure any more conversation with her guardians.

"This is just great," Wendy whined sadly to Nana, who had followed her to the room. "Everything was perfect, and then I had to check into that stupid hotel. I should have stayed on the streets. At least then, I'd be free."


	3. Chapter 3:Reunited

**A/N: Hello, my minions.**

 **This was supposed to be a three-shot, but I realized that unless you want to be reading this one chapter until next Friday, I better cut myself off and work the rest into the next chapter. ALSO, this is my longest chapter ever so yay me!**

 **Enjoy! (R &R implied)**

After a week with those horrid people, Wendy was completely fed up. They were even meaner to her than they were before. They denied her food, didn't allow her to go outside, and refused to buy her new clothes, even though she was in desperate need.

So, on one of the darkest night she'd ever seen, Wendy decided to get her dog and leave. She loaded the knapsack she had stolen with the sheet off the bed, a shawl she had poached from Mrs. Emerson, and a loaf of bread she had taken when they weren't looking.

Wendy crept down the hall and across the front parlor. She winced when the front door creaked as she opened it. She pushed Nana out onto the street and quickly followed behind her. Wendy took off down the avenue, running along the bank of the river Thames. She saw night fishermen in their small boats, pulling in large nets filled with fish. She hurried along before they noticed her. In her haste, however, she didn't notice that she was about to fall until she already had.

"Aw, really?" Wendy groaned, standing up from the puddle she had slipped in. Nana came over and licked her hand. Wendy laughed, took off her coat, and quickly wrung it out. She put it back on and continued walking.

"Well, Nana, where do you want to make camp?" Wendy asked the dog that was calmly strolling beside her. It wasn't snowing, thank the heavens, so they didn't need to worry about having a roof over their heads. After walking quite a ways, they stopped by a dark alleyway. "This looks cozy."

uuu

After a night of fitful rest, Wendy woke up. The sun was shining and not a single cloud blemished the perfect blue sky.

Stretching, her arms tangled in the sheet she had stolen, she said to Nana, "What shall we do today? I say we have about three more hours until those dreadful Emerson's realize I'm gone. That means we have roughly four until the constable comes looking. We should probably clear the area."

Satisfied with her plan, she stood up and gathered her things. Nana slowly got up and yawned, long strings of saliva dripping from her jowls. "You haven't the best manners, do you, Nana? Most would use a handkerchief to wipe away all that drool." Nana stared at her, big brown eyes slightly fogged with sleep. Wendy laughed at the dog and together they walked out onto the street.

The weather was excellent, sunny with a slight breeze that kept it from getting too warm. The snow was still piled on the ground and several snowmen stood in the front yards of the upper-class neighborhood she had journeyed into. She and Nana wandered out the lane, occasionally stopping to admire the Christmas decorations that were displayed on the faces of the houses. Two building up from the one they were currently looking at, there were two young boys playing in their large yard. After a few long moments, they noticed her and waved her over to join them.

"Hullo," The older-looking one of the two called out as she approached, his English accent plain in his speech. "I'm John, and this is my twin brother, Michael. Would you like to join us in a friendly game of toss?"

"I'd love to," Wendy replied happily.

"Your dog can play with us, too," The other one, Michael, offered. Wendy compared the two boys as she set down her belongings. John had said they were twins, but they looked completely different. John was tall and skinny, with dark brown hair and round spectacles. Michael, one the other hand, was short and chubby, with light blond hair much like that of her own. The former seemed more authoritative, whereas the latter seemed more shy.

"Thank you. Her name is Nana. She is very sweet." Wendy told them, brushing back her hair and skipping over to where they were standing, about twenty paces apart from each other.

"The rules are quite simple," John explained, holding up a small ball and adjusting his glasses. "I will stand here and throw the ball to Michael, while you will try to interfere and grab it before he can catch it."

Wendy smiled. "Sounds easy enough."

John smirked and readied himself to throw the ball to his brother. "Don't be too smug. Michael and I have much practice and good teamwork."

Laughing, Wendy said, "Now you're beginning to sound quite confident in your abilities, John."

Sure enough, as the game progressed, Wendy did indeed see displays of coordination between the two boys.

After playing for a while, they decided to take a break and then continue with a variation of the game Wendy had suggested.

They all collapsed in the snow, panting wildly. "You know something, gentlemen?" Wendy asked, breathing heavily. "I almost had two brothers six years ago. I feel as if they had lived, they would be like you boys."

"We're six years old," Michael commented, breathless from the exertion of playing their game.

"Really?" Wendy inquired, sitting up and leaning on her elbows. "That's interesting."

Sighing, John stated, "You never did tell us your name."

Wendy gasped. "I never did, did I? I seem to have a knack for doing that. I'm Wendy. Wendy Darling."

Both John and Michael stood up abruptly. "Impossible!" Exclaimed John, who pushed up his glasses while Michael stared at her wide-eyed.

"What? What is it?" Wendy fretted; afraid she had offended her new friends.

" _Our_ surname is Darling! And our Aunt and Uncle said we have a sister named Wendy who died. Are you that Wendy?" John explained so quickly, Wendy had a hard time separating words.

"Aunt and Uncle? Do you mean Aunt Mary and Uncle Howard?"

"Yes, yes!" Michael jumped around.

"My goodness." Wendy covered her gaping mouth with a hand as she slowly absorbed the information. "You are my long-lost brothers."

uuu

"I can't believe it! It really is you!" Uncle Howard proclaimed as Aunt Mary swept her up in an unlady-like bear hug.

"Oh, we missed ya a great deal, Wendy," Aunt Mary blubbered, her Irish accent thicker than normal due to her tears.

Wendy was shedding her own tears as she gripped her aunt tightly. "I've missed you too. It's been so long."

"Too long," Mary amended as her husband took his turn hugging his niece.

"We must throw a party to celebrate your return," Uncle Howard declared as he ruffled the hair of both the boys. "We'll have it here, and we can invite all the family friends—"

"And have cake and cookies and tea and sweets!" Michael interrupted, beaming as he imagined his suggestions being brought to life.

"Well, yes, and we could rent the band—Oh, Mary, can't you just imagine it?"

"I can imagine the bill that will follow such an extravagant ordeal," Mary chuckled, pulling John close and tickling him. "But I agree. A celebration is in order." She sent a glance at Wendy and her attire. "But first, I believe a shopping trip is needed."


	4. Chapter 4:All good things

After indulging in an expensive shopping trip with her aunt and uncle, Wendy Darling stood in front of her now-full closet. She reached out and brushed her hand over the soft velvet dresses and the smooth silk scarves. They were the finest clothing she had owned in half a decade.

"Oh, Nana, isn't this wonderful?" She asked, turning to the St. Bernard that rested on her bed. Nana looked at her with lazy eyes, and then settled her big head back on the mattress. Wendy rolled her eyes. "Please, Nana. Contain your enthusiasm." She faced her closet again, marveling her collection when a loud shout made her jump in surprise.

"Really, Dear. We simply cannot afford a whole entire band _and_ the finest champagne in London," Aunt Mary stated firmly in reply to whatever Uncle Howard had said.

"Fine. Then you choose which we have." Her uncle retorted.

She could imagine Aunt Mary resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "I pick the band. We can drink less expensive champagne but we cannot have entertainment anything short of perfect."

"Fine," Uncle Howard conceded. Then he raised his voice. "Wendy! Please come down here!"

Wendy rushed out of her room and down the stairs, purple velvet dress swinging out as she skidded to a stop before her mother's brother and his wife. "Yes?"

Aunt Mary was seating on the sofa, and Uncle Howard was leaning against its arm. "We would like to speak to you about the party." Mary said.

It took a moment for Wendy's breathing to slow down from her run. "Alright." She sank into the plush love seat across from them.

"We were thinking it would be best if we held it a fortnight from today, because that would give us time to book the band and order the food and cakes and get everything prepared." Howard explained.

"That seems reasonable," Wendy nodded.

"We would like your opinion on everything: the band we choose, the hors D'oeuvres, the flavor of your cake, anything and everything.

She dipped her chin in consent.

uuu

Over the next two weeks, Wendy and her family transformed her new home into a place in your dreams. Rooms were redecorated in ways that favored space for dancing, the chandeliers were all polished, and every available surface was crammed full with party supplies. Streamers, tin stars, and bouquets of flowers were scattered everywhere as Wendy scrambled to set up a party fit for a king.

She had always dreamed of this, laughing as she wrapped crêpe paper around John, sticking loose daffodils into Aunt Mary's up-do, and giggling furiously as Uncle Howard tripped over the decorations she had left strewn about.

Wendy loved the feeling of joy she experienced every time she woke up, the reassurance that she had a family and that she was safe.

She and Michael had really grown closer over her time spent there. He immediately turned to her for advice, even if it was something as simple as which type of pie he should eat for dessert. He also saw her as his protector, his big sister who had braved the world and would do everything to keep him from the harsh reality that was life for as long as she could.

And she sincerely wanted to. Wendy wanted to shelter him and John from everything she had suffered in her times in the Homes and on the streets. She felt pain in her heart whenever she thought about John or Michael bearing the horrible grief she had endured over the past five years. Losing her parents, getting forced into the orphanages, being tossed between foster homes with awful guardians. Wendy would rather she undergo the whole experience again than for her dear brother to have to.

And maybe, if she was lucky, she could shield them from the horror that is the world, for just a little while longer.

uuu

The party seemed to be a success, Wendy knew as she floated down the main staircase in the gorgeous petal pink gown her aunt had chosen for her. She was greeted by a smattering of applause, and then was engulfed in a sea of strangers. Wendy was hugged by so many women and shook hands with so many men, that by the time the ocean of people spit her back out by the fireplace, her hand was worn raw from all the contact.

"Are you enjoying yourself, dear?" Aunt Mary suddenly appeared by her side, holding a glass of champagne in her left hand.

"Yes, I am." Wendy smiled. "Are you, Aunt Mary?"

Her aunt twirled the glass in her hand, causing the liquid inside to circulate, before answering. "I've never been one to entertain, but I must admit the band is lovely."

Wendy just now noticed the faint sound of a violin playing with a piano accompaniment. They sounded just right together. "Yes, they are marvelous."

Uncle Howard, followed by John and Michael, walked up to her. "I believe it is time for a dance." Uncle Howard stated, his tone leaving no room for protest. He held out his hand. "Mary?"

His wife blushed a deep shade of scarlet, and Wendy was shocked to see her usually unflappable aunt so flustered.

"Howard, you know I don't dance," She whispered, eyes trained on the floor.

"It is a special occasion, Mary," Howard answered, hand still outstretched.

Aunt Mary sighed. "Fine. One dance."

Wendy's uncle's smile was so wide; she thought his face might crack. As the couple strolled over to the space cleared out, Wendy turned to her brothers. "Which one of you shall I dance with?"

The twin's eyes widened and they both fumbled for words. Wendy laughed and grabbed their hands. "We'll all dance together."

She dragged them onto the dance floor and arranged their bodies so they could all dance without tripping over each other. John held Michael's hand, who was latched on to Wendy like she was a life raft in a raging sea. She peeled her little brother off her side and snatched up his hand instead. She leaned over and grasped John's hand, feeling that his palms were sweating.

Wendy couldn't control the smile that spread across her face as they all rotated slowly at first, until her brothers got into it and they were a lively, swirling mess of laughter and joy.

By the end of the night, she was thoroughly exhausted and declared to her family as she tiredly trudged up the steps that she would care for the mess in the morning.

Wendy quickly changed into a soft blue nightgown and then climbed into her bed. She pulled the heavy duvet over her small body right before the memories of the night lulled her to a peaceful sleep.

ONE YEAR LATER

Wendy's serene slumber was interrupted by a loud crash. She awoke instantly, alert. Her eyes scanned the room for the source of the sound.

Her eyes were greeted by the sight of a young boy chasing his shadow.


End file.
